


Ties

by esteefee



Series: Ho'oheno [2]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-23
Updated: 2011-10-23
Packaged: 2017-10-24 21:54:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/268285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/esteefee/pseuds/esteefee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve has a tough task that Danny makes easier.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ties

"What the hell's going on with you?" Danny asked him, and it wasn't even the first time this week, so Steve wasn't surprised when his muttered _"Paperwork"_ didn't put Danny off from coming over to where Steve was once again hunched over his dad's old desk.

Danny looked over his shoulder and said, "Form 1310—what's that?"

Steve lifted his wrist, and Danny cleared his throat. "'Statement of Person Claiming Refund Due a Deceased Taxpayer.' For your dad, huh?"

"His last tax return, yeah. Real pain in the ass." Steve shifted uncomfortably. "I've been digging through his papers all week."

Danny settled on the desk facing him, one big thigh warm against Steve's forearm. Steve was tempted to just lift his arm and lay it there, maybe rest his aching head down while he was at it. Digging through all those old papers had been like excavating through his dad's life, a life he'd led without Steve and Mary, a lonely, sad existence. It wouldn't have been so bad if his dad hadn't kept everything—God, what a pack rat. Meticulous to a fault, every damned receipt, some of them cut up to hide what they were for, which led Steve to speculate, somewhat unkindly, as to their origins—porn? Escorts? Guns? Informants?

Steve kind of hoped it was for escorts, actually. He liked the thought the old man had had a little fun in his life before the end.

A hand stroked up the back of Steve's neck and rested in his hair, making him realized he'd done it after all—pressed his aching forehead against Danny's firm leg. Steve closed his eyes and hummed a little when the soothing touch continued.

"Hey, it's been over a year since, ah. Since we met, right?" Danny pressed his fingers a little harder, and Steve groaned.

"Yeah. Little bit over."

"So, why don't we, I dunno, do something?" Danny sounded a little embarrassed, and Steve smiled secretly against the slab of Danny's thigh.

"You mean go for a hike?"

"Right—no, I do not mean go for a hike, Nature Boy. I mean a more civilized endeavor, such as a night out, dinner, beverages that cost more than two dollars a bottle, that sort of thing."

"Sounds good. I'll wear a tie." Steve thought it might be safe to lift his head now, and looked up to surprise a fond expression on Danny's face, lips soft in a smile, eyes half-open and a little dreamy. His look sharpened when Steve caught him, and he said, "A tie? Really, Steven? Do you own any, or will you be borrowing one from the Undercover Unit?"

"I have ties."

"You have ties."

"Plenty of ties. Lots."

Danny shifted and suddenly Steve was being pulled to his feet, the mess abandoned behind him as he was steadily pulled toward the stairs. "We're not talking uniform ties, are we? Because those things are hideous polyester constructions my uncle Bernie wouldn't be caught dead in. And he owned a butcher shop for thirty years. He was not what you'd call a class act."

"But I bet he knew his prime rib," Steve said, letting himself get dragged upstairs. He'd show Danny his secret tie collection, the one Cat had insisted on so Steve could take her out to fancy restaurants in payment for all those sweet favors.

"That he did. He was mean with a cleaver."

Not that Steve had ever complained—he thought he looked pretty good in a tie, although not as good as Danny. Though maybe it would be more fun to pretend he didn't own any at all, just to see Danny's face.

"They're in here somewhere, I think."

"They're joke ties, I bet—these better not be ones with pineapples or hula girls—"

Okay, that was just insulting for more than one reason. Steve stopped mid-reach for the closet door and pushed Danny up against it. He caught Danny mid-gasp, perfect for kissing, which was what he did, giving it to him good, slipping his tongue into Danny's parted mouth, one hand on Danny's neck to hold him still. Danny was strangely passive, as if this had been his plan all along—Steve wouldn't put it past him, but didn't care, because he had Danny hard up against him, arms firm around him, and Steve widened his stance so they were chest to chest, hip to hip, and he pushed Danny hard against the door just to feel him give it up.

The past was just that—murky and unknowable, irretrievable and weighty, but Danny's hands flashed live and hot against his skin, setting Steve firmly in the here and now, and Danny's body and heart were stories Steve could still explore.

"Yeah, babe," Danny said, smiling against his lips, and Steve closed his eyes and took hold of his future.

:::

"No, see, now I have you wearing a tie, and that's good, that's great," Danny said. "It's a very nice tie, Steven, don't get me wrong. But you can see how they might take issue with the rest of your ensemble, babe."

Steve finished perfecting his Windsor and brushed his hand down the tie, smoothing it to rest against the bare skin of his chest. Behind him in the mirror, he could see Danny's eyes on his naked ass, and he grinned.

"So, what you're saying is, you like the tie?"

 

_End._

**Author's Note:**

> October 19th, Pops. Αιωνία η μνήμη.


End file.
